The first-class compartments were even more luxuriously appointed than the saloon where they'd eaten. Elaborate brass chandeliers provided the light, and the walls were dotted with mirrors. "Now what?" Tegan asked. "Wait till we get to London and the police show up? That could be hours. I can't just sit around that long. I'd go round the twist." "We need to find out who did it," Sara said. "To clear our own names, if nothing else." "What d'you mean, our own names?" Rose asked. "We'll all be suspects. Any one of us could have stabbed that man, whoever he is. We had plenty of time in the dark." "But we didn't." Rose glanced around. "Well, I didn't. And I'm sure none of you did either." "Thanks," Tegan said. "So... I suppose we'll have to find out who really did it. What have we got?" "Not a lot," Liz said. "He was stabbed. Whoever did it had brought the dagger with them, in a sheath, probably so it didn't damage the lining of their pocket or handbag or wherever they hid it. The lights went out, and whoever it was left their seat, and stabbed Mr... whoever he is." "That means it's got to be one of the two sitting on the aisle, doesn't it? The ones by the window couldn't have got past." "Maybe. But everyone was on their feet when the lights came on. Who knows if someone swapped places with someone else?" "Terrific," Tegan said sourly. "Now what do we do?" "I suppose we'd better interview the passengers," Rose said. "Tell you what. I'll go and set it up with them. One at a time." "I suppose it's worth a shot," Liz said. * When Rose returned, it was in the company of the blond man, who'd been addressed as 'Charles'. "Private investigators, eh?" he said, seating himself in a corner seat. "Want to get one over on the police?" "We want to find out what happened," Sara said. "Our only concern is for the truth." "Very proper. Well, fire away." "Your full name, please." "Colonel Charles Harris." "Can you tell us what happened, in your own words?" "Not a lot to say. Lights went out. Got up, tried to find my lighter, but before I could the lights came back on. And there was Dick -- well, you saw him." "Who was he?" Rose asked. "His name was Richard Gilbert. Old friend. Known him for years." "What sort of a man was he?" "Nice enough chap. Well-off, you know. Ran his own business." "Do you stand to gain anything from his death?" Tegan said. "Sorry, but we've got to ask." "Not a thing. I daresay his daughter would inherit his money." "She's the young lady you were with this evening?" "That's right." "Could you tell us her name?" Tegan felt stupid for asking, though obviously there was no way she could be expected to know it. "Maria." "How did she get on with her father?" "Well. As far as I know." "That's two of you," Sara said. "Who are the other two?" "Bridget is a friend of the family. Bridget James, if you want her full name. Pretty rich. Invested quite a bit in Dick's business, over the years. Everyone's been wondering for years if she was going to end up marrying Dick." "He's a widower, then?" "Has been for years. And the young chap's Tommy Sutton. Works in the office. Dick always said he'd got talent, if he'd only apply himself. Done well this last year. I think there was some sort of promotion in the offing." Liz pulled a notebook out of her handbag, and pushed it across the table. "Could you show us who was sitting where?" she said. "I've drawn a plan of the coach; perhaps you could write on the seats which people occupied which seats." "By all means." He briefly wrote on the proffered page. "There you are." "So, to summarise, we have two close family friends, a loving daughter, and a subordinate who owes his career to Mr Gilbert," Liz said, taking back the notebook. "Of the four of you, which one would you say is most likely to have killed him?" "Can't believe it was any of us. Really, too impossible for words." "Did you recognise the dagger?" "Never seen it before." "Would you mind turning out your pockets?" "Happy to." The Colonel delved in his pockets, producing a tobacco pouch, pipe, handkerchief, keys, a railway ticket and a small revolver. "Do you always carry a gun?" Tegan asked. "Got into the habit out East. So you see, if I'd wanted Dick dead, I could have shot him any time I liked." "If you'd shot him on the train this evening, it would have been rather obvious who did it, though," Liz said. "I take your point. Anyway, I didn't do it." "You're taking all this very calmly," Rose said. "I mean, he was an old friend, wasn't he?" "Stiff upper lip and all that." "Oh, *that*." There was a momentary pause. "Well, ladies, if that's all--" "I think it is," Liz said. She glanced around. "Anyone? Yes, I think you can go now. Perhaps you'd like to ask Mr Sutton to see us next." The Colonel rose to his feet, bowed, and departed. "What did you think of him?" Tegan asked, in a low voice. "He's a soldier," Sara said. "Trained to kill. He could have done it." "Why would he?" Sara merely shrugged. "I dunno," Rose said. "He should've been more upset." Before the conversation could continue, there was a knock at the door, and they were joined by the next suspect. Thomas Sutton was a tall, confident- looking man, with his dark hair cut short. The spectacles he was wearing gave him a studious appearance, but there was nothing of the unworldly academic about him. "Ladies," he said, sitting down in the indicated corner seat. There was a momentary confusion each of as his four interrogators each waited for one of the others to say something, and then all tried to speak at once. In the end, Rose won her point, and took Sutton through the routine business of confirming his name and his position as a rising star in the late Richard Gilbert's business. "I'm pretty much a glorified travelling salesman," he said. "I drive round the country with a car full of electrical goods trying to hawk them to suspicious shopkeepers. Well, not so much, these days. I spend more time in the office sending other people out to do that." "Colonel Harris said you were in for a promotion," Tegan said. "Well, it wasn't final, but I'd had the nod from RG that it was in the bag. Quite a step up for me. I don't know if it'll go ahead now that he's-- well, you know." "Can you tell us what happened? I mean, as you saw it?" "Well, I didn't see anything. The lights went out, and there was a lot of chatter and noise. And then, when the lights came on again, there he was, poor fellow, with a dagger in his back." "Did you recognise the dagger?" Sara asked. "I don't think so. It isn't the sort of thing you leave lying around." "And can we see the contents of your pockets, please?" In addition to the usual keys and railway ticket, these consisted of a packet of cigarettes, matches, a crumpled bill for laundry, three shillings and sixpence loose change, and the draft of an advertisement for a new electric floor polisher. "Nothing out of the ordinary, I hope," he said. Liz handed him her notebook, turned to a new page. "Could you write down where everybody was sitting, please?" she asked. "Of course." He wrote the names against the seats with a confident hand. "And, finally, can you tell us who you think is the most likely person to have done it?" "I can't answer that. It's impossible. To think of your friends, your colleagues as murderers?" He shook his head. "No. It's inexplicable." "Thank you, then. Perhaps you could ask one of the ladies to look in next?" "Of course." He departed. "If he's doing as well as everyone says he is, he's got brains," Liz said, once they were alone. "It could be him." "He's got no motive," Tegan said. "He was going to get promoted. Now he might not." "I expect you'll find that the other two won't have a motive either," Sara said. "When someone gets killed it's amazing how eager people are to show you they don't have a motive." There was a short silence, in the middle of which their next suspect arrived. Bridget James was a handsome, middle-aged woman, expensively dressed. In one hand she held an ivory cigarette holder, with which she gesticulated as she spoke. "This is all perfectly frightful," she said. "I do hope that this can be sorted out quickly and quietly." "We'll be discreet, of course," Sara said. "But there are limits to what we can do. Even if we do find out who killed Mr Gilbert, there'll have to be a trial." Mrs James closed her eyes at the thought. "How dreadful," she said. "Terrible. Appalling." "Can you explain how you all came to be dining together tonight?" Rose asked, before Mrs James could get any further through the thesaurus. "Why, Richard and Charles and I are all old friends. We're quite a little social circle. I don't know what I shall do for company now. And Richard brought his daughter along, of course. And Tommy Sutton, well, he's getting to be something of a regular at our little gatherings. I do wonder, you know, if Richard is grooming him to take over the business. Was grooming him, I should say." "Who do you think will take over now?" "Oh, I haven't the least idea. Richard talks about his work, of course, but I've never seen half the men he mentions. Probably some horrid little foreman with side whiskers and a cigarette in his mouth." "I believe you've put some money into the business, over the years," Liz said. "And why shouldn't I? One must speculate in order to accumulate, as they say. And if I should happen to help out an old friend at the same time, what's the matter with that?" "Nothing that I can see." Liz sat back in her seat. "The Colonel said everyone was wondering if you were going to marry Mr Gilbert," Tegan said. "Is that true?" "He never asked me." "If he had, would you have said yes?" "That's hardly likely to happen now, is it?" She dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. "Did you have any further questions to ask?" "Do you have any idea who was responsible?" Sara asked. "Not in the least. I saw nothing. Well, I couldn't have, could I? It was dark." "Of course. May we examine the contents of your pockets, if you've got any? And your handbag?" The examination that followed was lengthy, but unproductive. Letters, cosmetics, money, tickets, cigarettes, keys, and similar impedimenta passed under scrutiny, but all were completely mundane. There wasn't even a bottle of pills. Once she had repacked her bag to her liking, Mrs James was prevailed upon to add a seating plan to Liz's collection, and then took her leave, still gesticulating. "She could've done it," Rose said, the moment the door had closed behind her. "What makes you say that?" Sara asked. "I dunno. It's just a feeling." Rose glanced around, as if mentally casting about for clues. "Perhaps that cigarette holder's really a blowpipe. She shot him with a poison dart and stuck the dagger in afterwards." Liz raised her eyebrows. "If she was going to stab him anyway, why bother with the poison first?" "I dunno. Stop him fighting back?" "And what happened to the dart?" Rose thought, and shrugged. "Sorry. Forget it." "You did find the dagger under her seat," Tegan said, addressing Liz. "That's if it was her seat, of course." Liz consulted her notebook. "She says it wasn't." "So she says she was in a different seat to divert suspicion away from herself, and then drops the dagger under her new seat to divert suspicion onto herself..." Tegan shook her head. "That's barmy." Footsteps were heard outside, and the rustle of soft fabrics. They composed themselves for the arrival of the next visitor. Maria Gilbert was very attractive, and her natural beauty had been enhanced by every means known to man. Her angelic face was surrounded by a halo of exquisitely-styled golden curls, her blue dress amplified the charms of her figure, and she was sporting a tastefully-selected array of jewellery. "I really don't know what help I can be to you," she said, in a low voice. "I didn't see a thing. It was just like a terrible dream. The lights came on and there was father -- dead." "We're very sorry," Tegan said. "But we've got to ask you some questions so we can try and work out who did it. Do you feel up to that?" "Yes. I think so." "Did you recognise the dagger?" Liz asked. "No. But I only took one look. After that I... I couldn't." "Of course. Can we check your possessions, just in case?" This took practically no time. Maria's dainty handbag held only the usual railway ticket, a powder compact, a few tissues and an expensive fountain pen. "Did your father have any enemies?" Rose asked. "I suppose he must have done. He was a rich man, after all. But it must have been one of us, mustn't it?" She glanced from one interrogator to the next, her eyes wide and artless. "The Colonel, or Mrs James, or Tom." "You didn't do it, then?" Liz said. "Me?" "Don't worry," Tegan reassured her. "She's only joking. I hope you can forgive her, because in a moment she's going to ask you to write out where everyone was sitting." This was swiftly accomplished, and Maria took her leave almost immediately. "And that's that," Sara said. "Is anyone going to tell us why she did it? Tegan?" "Me?" Tegan sounded offended at the thought. "We've all made a case out against someone, except you." Tegan shrugged. "I suppose, if her father was rich, she'd inherit. But I don't see her laying a plot to kill him like that. She doesn't look like the type." "If murderers all looked like murderers our task would be a lot simpler," Sara said. "So, you think she told us the truth?" Liz asked, still looking at Tegan. Tegan gave her a glare. "What's that supposed to mean?" "I'll tell you something." Liz put her notebook on the table. "I've asked all four of our suspects to draw where they were. And they've given us four different seating plans." She flipped through the book. "Look. The Colonel says he was sitting by the aisle, with Mrs James beside him, Thomas Sutton opposite him and Maria Gilbert in the corner. Sutton's exchanged the positions of the Colonel and Mrs James. Maria puts herself by the aisle, with Sutton in the corner seat, and Mrs James says both women were next to the aisle and both men in the corners." "So three of them are lying," Tegan said. "Maybe all four, but at least three, yes. Now why would they do that?" "Covering up for someone," Rose said. "You said the murderer would have to be in an aisle seat, right? So Maria protects her boyfriend by saying she was the one in that seat, and he does the same for her." "And the same for the Colonel and Mrs James?" "Yeah, they're old friends." "No, there's got to be more to it," Sara said. "Because they also disagree about who was sitting opposite them. If Mrs James suspected the Colonel, she might falsify where he was sitting, but why would she lie about Sutton and Maria?" "She'd say who was sitting opposite her?" Tegan suggested. "And not realise until later that it meant she'd swapped them over?" "Possibly. Or they're all colluding to make our task harder." "Are you sure it was one of them?" "You've got an alternative suggestion?" "Well, there's that steward. Someone made the lights go out, and I bet he's the only one who knew where the switch is." "That's a good point." Liz made a note in her book. "It could have been the steward. I certainly think we should ask him about the lights. So, who do we think is the prime suspect at the moment?" "At the moment?" Sara frowned. "I think it's got to be one of us." Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8
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